This and That

1.  Made a birthday cake for my teacher friend's mom's 95th birthday this week.  She wanted caramel icing, which I'd never made and was, quite frankly, a little afraid of.  I used this recipe, and it took a while.  But that was okay, because I had Brothers & Sisters streaming the whole time.  And apparently the icing was exactly what they wanted.  Shoot yeah!

2.  Also, I am completely out of Brothers & Sisters episodes.  I don't know what makes me more sad--that I don't have any more episodes to watch, or that I spent days of my life watching like 110 episodes of that show.  But, since it's over, I need something new.  I'm trying out Parenthood, and I've ordered season 1 of Six Feet Under.  It needs to be something I haven't seen already because I need it to to keep me interested during ellipting, but it can't be too brainy (looking at you, The Wire) because I also want to watch it as a precursor to nap. Any suggestions?

3.  Oh, also, while I was making caramel icing, I was on the step where I had to melt sugar in a cast iron skillet.  I know caramel can be temperamental, and I didn't want it to burn, so while the sugar was bubbling, I decided to stick my finger right in it to check if it tasted burnt.  Yeah, that felt good.  Blast sure is learning some interesting language now, isn't he?  So I've been spending some time nursing my poor finger lately.

4.  Totes did some home repair work last weekend in the guest room/nursery.  I read in a book that you're not supposed to feed your baby a diet of paint chips, so something needed to be done.  Well, shoot.  So there was scraping and sanding and hole-filling and sanding again and painting and curtain rod and new curtain hanging. Now the room looks clean and inviting instead of like some evil alien lair.

5.  Remember how I went all bananas for my Tempurpedic travel pillow?  Well, I lost it for a while, but found it under our bed last weekend while cleaning.  Then, a couple of mornings ago, I woke up to find that Mitch had snagged my pillow and was using it.  I guess we need to get a new one?  Also, what kind of spoiled dog needs a Tempurpedic pillow?

6.  Started a youtube playlist at school because they blocked Pandora.  I added the 500 Days of Summer theme song to my list, but when it started playing, it played Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind."  Well if that isn't a wonderful Friday surprise, what is? She leads me to moonlight, only to burn me with the sun!

7.  I think I might be starting to look actually pregnant instead of just pregnant with garlic bread and sandwiches.  My jeans still fit and stuff, but I think there might be a little bit of a uterus lump now.  Anyway, yesterday I went to try on some of the maternity jeans that Ann gifted me (thanks, Ann!), and I realized that they were insanely comfortable.  I mean, they were basically all of the comfort of pajama jeans, but with the look of actual jeans!  So I wore them, and I slept in them, and I haven't really taken them off since yesterday.  Is it appropriate to wear maternity jeans for the rest of my life?

8.  Oh, also, my face has broken out like a sombitch.  My skin hasn't looked this bad since I was in ninth grade, before I realized that I can't use soap on it.  And this really pisses me off because in my special deal with the universe I got a few things: a decent level of intelligence (ignore the incident from #3), good hand-eye coordination, manageable hair, and nice skin.  And now, since I've been hosting Blast, my face looks like the before picture in a Proactiv ad.  This is some bull jive, universe!  We're in a fight.

9.  Don't forget to vote for the Savannah Humane Society!  Mitch thanks you!

May your week be free from injuries and full of candy!

Vote for Charity: A Post from Mitch

Hey, y'all, it's me, Mitch.  I haven't really been here lately because I've been on snugglin' duty with mom.  She's pregnant for the second time.  The first was when she was about to have me.

Okay, well, that's a little story we tell in our family.  But it's time for me to come clean with you.  You see, I am not born of woman.  I'm actually born of dog, and when I was a tiny puppy the humans who owned that dog who had me took me and all of my biological brothers and sisters to the Humane Society, where my mom and dad found me and I charmed them with my lopsided ears and by chewing on my mom's jacket.  The Humane Society was actually pretty nice (and sometimes when I'm being super annoying my mom and dad say that they're going to take me back there, but I know that's just a joke), and the cool people there took care of me and all of the other dogs.

There's only two things I could say bad about the Savannah Humane Society.

1.  They named me Chico.
2.  They also love cats.

But in everything else, they're the bee's knees!  They even have a thrift store upstairs where I like to donate all of my used toys and collars and where sometimes I'll go buy some stuff.

And I just found out from my Aunt Cassie last night that the Savannah Humane Society is in a contest to win $100,000, and we're currently in first place.  Now, here's what I need you to do.  Vote.   It's super easy, and all you have to do is enter your email address and then verify that your email is real.  I mean, just think of all of the bones and treats and collars and beds that the Humane Society could provide to other dogs. . .and, fine, cats too. . .if they had that kind of cash.

So go vote.  Do it for all of the Mitchell Pancakes and Henry Parkers (I can swallow my hatred of cats for a hot minute if it means helping lots of dogs--plus, Henry's my cousin and I kind of respect him because he has to live with Fletcher.)

You can vote once a day from now until Halloween.  So what are you waiting for?

Click here to vote for the Greater Savannah Humane Society.

Don't make me get up in your face and bark.

Shoot Yeah!

Go check out why I've been so incredibly excited these last few weeks.

And enjoy this lovely number on your Saturday morning.



And, everyone else, now I'll stop nagging you to get pregnant with me.  

Merry, Merry.

[source]

I want it to be Christmas.

I want the cookies, and the time off, and the coats and hats, and the music.  Oh, the music!

And, judge away my friends, but this little ditty* will be playing as I deck our, uh, house with, uh, lots of sparkly ADD-type Christmas decor.

I've started my shopping, and I've been pinning away fun decorations, and I've already picked out our Christmas card.

Anyway, Shorty**, guess it's time for bed.  How else will I have visions of sugar-plums and homemade peppermint marshmallows?


*I still haven't felt the baby kick, and it's making me mad.  So, now, since I know he can hear, I'm trying all sorts of things to get him moving.  (Lazy fetus!)  So far, here are some things that have not worked: me yelling at students, the season four finale of Brothers & Sisters, Christopher Walken reading "The Raven," Mitch barking at a bone, threats to name it Shorty.  And now let's add Justin Bieber's Christmas music to that list.  Does nothing rile this child?

*Or do you prefer to go by Dirty?

Weekend Fun

What started off as a rocky weekend (What?  Dairy Queen is closed and I can't have a Blizzard?  Should we move to a house that is closer to a Dairy Queen or what?) turned out to be absolutely lovely and breezy.  We opened all of the windows and grilled and ellipted and watched too much TV.  I expanded The Blast's wardrobe by approximately 84 pieces.  (Girl across the street who has a little boy was having a yard sale and selling clothes for $.25/each.  And I got a pack n play for $5.  For the duration of the weekend, I sang the Subway "Five Dollar Footlong" song to Matt, substituting, of course, pack n play for footlong.  Matt has never been more excited to leave the house, methinks.)

I ate Taco Bell twice.  Why so good, Taco Bell?  Also, Matt says that if I were to go in for an ultrasound, the technician would be able to see a baby, and a chicken crunchwrap.*

I also pledged not to leave to house for most of the weekend, which meant that a bunch of those annoying little house projects that I've needed to do are getting done, and it means that I'm really feeling a deep connection with my Brothers & Sisters.  

Here's what it looked like.

Now I need to find a matching one for Mitch. 

 Reilly came to visit and to protect us from yard sale customers.

Mitch got some help with his chores.

 Clothesplosion!

 Wondering why we have all of these clothes when his father has strictly forbidden him from wearing clothes.

 As close as I could come to a Blizzard without putting in much effort.

With the guidance of a Shecky over the phone, finally cleaned out the linen closet. 

 Reilly votes that we keep the green blankets.

Now we've got to go see what's going on with that sexpot Nucky Thompson.  Happy week to you!

*Sidenote: Wouldn't it be cool if one of those baby websites would tell you how big your baby is by comparing its size to that of a fast food item?  "This week your baby is as big as a taco!"

First Impressions

So, The Blast, who I just picture now to look like this--

--well, he can hear us now.  That is freaky.  It's troublesome, too, because this has been one of those weeks--those grumpy, cranky, squinty mean faces all day weeks--at school where I might not have been talking in my nicest sweetest voice.

In short, the baby already thinks I'm a bitch.  Either that, or it thinks that its mom is Sissy Spacek because my ninth graders have been listening to To Kill a Mockingbird.  Shoot.

So this weekend I'm going to work on being nicer and less cranky.  Or at least recording myself saying nice and encouraging things so that I can get some stomach headphones and feed him happy thoughts.  This weekend there will be open windows and two dogs and maybe a little bit of shopping and cake.  There had better be cake, or I'm bringing back my bitch voice.

Hope your weekend is full of happiness and cake!


****Baby, if you are reading this far, far in the future.  First impressions are really important.  I am kind of a bitch, which you probably know already.  Never date a girl who's not at least a little bit of a bitch.  Also, don't use the word bitch unless you're over 13.****

Weekends

My life lately is just one big Brother & Sisters nap sprinkled with fits of productivity.  

Things are quiet but good, and here's what it's looked like around here.  Be forewarned: it's mostly dogs and food.  

 Mmmmmmmm. . .pasta and bean stew.

Pumpkin whoopie pies! 

Damned squirrels. 

 Chillaxin' in the dirt spot.

Totes got hired to make a cake for a friend of a friend.  I'm basically a professional baker.

 Best snuggle buddy of all time.

Cranberry casserole is totally a health food because it has fruit.  And oatmeal.

Chill in the air means that Mitch begins to dress in layers. 

Does it get any better than this? 

 Judging myself for being so completely in love with these little footy pajamas.  

Also ordering pairs for myself--and Matt and Mitch.

Beyonce, take note--this is how you bring the sexy while knocked up.

Happy week to you!

But It's So Cute!

I know I'm not supposed to let the dog eat things right off the table, but when Mitch received these special doggy Halloween cookies in the mail (from the best English teacher of all time!), I just couldn't resist.

I promise I'll be more strict with our second-born.